The Wind Always Changes
by Layana Danare
Summary: Felicita is 15 and all alone for the first time in her life, wandering Venice. Fortunately, Scipio Massimo knows just where to take her. Ida's house. But they can't stay there for long, there is trouble rising. PostMovie based. ScipioOC Ch5 is up!
1. Chapter 1

_I am not sure what color Scipio's eyes actually are, so if you do, and the answer is different than the color I've put, please tell me._

_-Layana _

* * *

So cold. 

_Dear God, please..._

A brisk, powerful wind swept Venice late one night, and a storm followed on it's heels. Lightning ripped at the black sky like jagged claws reaching for the ground that was too far away to reach. Thunder scolded from the heavens.Mice skittered into wide cracks in the buildings and into wooden crates left to rot. A girl huddled in an alleyway, resting her head against the door-frame of an abandoned house.

_P-please send someone.. Before I freeze.._

The girl pulled her long gray coat around her slender body, thankful that the castoff was a size too big for her.She curled up her toes inside her too-tight shoes, willing them not to ache so, at least the shoes keep her feet warm. She bit her blue lips together and raised her face up toward the sky as the first drops of icy rain began to fall.

The girl bent her head, her long, dark red hair falling all around her. The rain pattered lightly on the cobblestones at first, then it hammered on them as if it wished to beat all sense of whatever happened to be out of doors that night. Lightning, reflected in the girl's eyes, split the sky again, and thunder bellowed at it almost instantly. _What was it Mother used to tell me about Thunder and Lightning?_

_ "Mamma, Mamma!" A five year old ran to her mother's bedside. Outside, a great storm raging._

_The girl's mother shot up in bed, her blue eyes sleepy and her black hair all in a tangle. "Felicita, my child, what is it that calls you to my bed at this hour?"_

_"Mamma.. The storm," Felicita buried her face in her mother's ghost-white nightgown._

_The woman reached for her blue robe at the side of the bed and took her daughter's hand. "Come, Lissa. To the kitchen with me."_

_"Is it dark like this in the kitchen?"_

_"Be it dark, or be it not, come with me," Her mother tied the strings of her robe tight and led her daughter out of the room and into a tiny kitchen with a small stove, a few cabinets and a little table to sit at. She sat her daughter down in one of the wooden chairs and reached for a mug that was hanging on a hook on the wall. She poured the last bit of milk into the mug and heated it carefully. When it was blood-warm, she handed it to the little girl._

_"Lissa," he mother started and the little girl looked at her, "did you know that the Lightning is really a little boy, trying to reach the ground so that he can pick up his plaything?" Lissa looked at her in wonderment, and her mother nodded. "The problem is, he almost always hits a tree or the water, instead of the ground, and then his mother, the Thunder, scolds him cruelly. He waits until he thinks her back is turned, and then he tries again, but she always knows when he reaches for the earth again. Her language is not for us to understand, so it can be frightening." Lissa's mother stared hard at her, "be you afraid of her?"_

_"No, Mamma. Leastways, not anymore..."_

A splashing interrupted Lissa's memories. Something was moving through the deep puddles, approaching her. _It must be a rat, _Lissa thought, _no human 'sides me would be crazy enough to venture out this night. _Even so, she peered through the rain, hoping to see a friendly face.

The splashing on the cobblestones halted, and Lissa felt a stab of abandonment, but when they started up again, her heart leapt with joy. Why, she did not know. Not until a man's shadow loomed out of the darkness. He was tall, surely, and his frame was that of a grown man, but as he grew closer, she could see that his face was young, like that of a boy of sixteen or so, which was only a year older than herself. Oh, it had the manly stubble that so many young men sported, but the skin was smooth, no wrinkles or smile or frown marks had worn their way onto the young man's face. And the eyes.. The eyes danced like a boy's eyes.

The young man approached her, smiling a soft, beautiful smile. She looked up at him in awe, wondering at his height and wondering if she should stay or run away as fast as her legs would carry her. Something told her to stay, and to that voice she listened. The young man reached out his hand, smooth and tanned, and grasped her own.

"What are you doing out so late?" English words spilled from his lips, and Lissa was grateful. She had never spoken much Italian, for her mother was an English woman and her father she had never known.

"I-I'm- I mean, I don't have anywhere to go to," Lissa stammered, blushing at the touch of his cold fingers.

"Nowhere to go?" His dark eyes swept the alley. "Are you an orphan?"

Lissa fixed her eyes sternly on the young man's face, "I am." She had an urge to add, "what's it to you?" but she didn't.

"Come with me, I know the perfect place for you to stay," He said, squeezing her hand and helping her up.

Lissa pulled away, "how do I know I can trust you? What if you take me somewhere and-" She stopped there, not even wanting to imagine what could happen to her if-

"You have my word," the young man said. "I know a woman, her name is Ida, and she'll take care of you. She already has five children in her home."

"Oh, but then I must not burden her!"

"Oh dear, no. You will be no bother. I didn't mean it that way. She's just crazy about children, and she's got more than enough room," the young man explained quickly.

Lissa shrugged, mostly convinced. "Nothing could be worse than sitting here in the rain. And I'm not a child!" She exclaimed huffily.

The young man smiled a crooked smile, like maybe he had a secret to tell. "Of course, Miss. Shall we go?"

-----

"Where'd you find her, Scip?" Boniface, a six year old scampster with blond curls, tugged on Scipio Massimo's sleeve, and looked up at him with his large eyes.

"Same place I found you and Prosper, Bo," the young man patiently replied, watching Prosper, Bo's older brother, Catarina "Hornet" Grimani, and Mosca, a young Black boy with a brilliant smile, murmur to each other as they sat in front of the fireplace. Ricco, a boy with spiky reddish hair, stood leaning against the wall with a frown setting on his brow.

"Really? The same place?" Bo asked, petting his kitten. When Scipio did not answer, he put the kitten in Scipio's arms, "Scip? Scip!"

"Yes, Bo," Scipio answered, patting the kitten and handing it back to Bo. "And she needs us just as much as You and Prosper needed Ricco, Hornet, Mosca and I."

"Except she needs Prop and me, too, right?"

"Yes, Bo."

Bo slid down from the chair he was sitting in, letting his kitten wander off to explore the house, and walked over to he closed door of Ida's bedroom where Ida was getting some of Hornet's clothes that would fit the new girl. Hornet didn't have as many clothes as she would have liked, but she had eagerly agreed to let the new girl share with her, so glad was she to have a girl near her age about the house.

"Are you done in there?" Bo called. He was eager to meet the new girl, and get to know her. He hoped she'd be as nice as Hornet.

"Yes!" Chirped Ida from inside, "wait just a minute!"

Bo heard a few murmurs and then the door creaked open slowly.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: This is a _fanfic_, which means it is a story based on something that _I did not come up with. _So this means that I _am not claiming it's mine._

* * *

Ida opened the door and smiled down at Bo, then she stepped toward the kitchen, leaving a timid Lissa standing in the doorway. Prosper, Mosca and Hornet looked up from the fire, smiling. Ricco's ears moved toward the door (moving his ears was his recently discovered talent), but he did not look. Instead, he stared stubbornly at a glass vase Ida had sitting on a shelf. 

Meanwhile, Bo was hopping from one toe to the other in joy, biting his lips together to conceal shouting aloud. Prosper stood up and put a hand on his shoulder to calm Bo down, but even that couldn't hold it in. Bo grabbed Lissa's hand, "are you staying with us?" He looked up into eyes even bluer than his own.

Lissa's lips twitched and she couldn't help but beam down at Bo. Then she looked up at his older brother. Prosper, unsure of what to do, held out his hand to her, and she shook it. Prosper's eyes twinkled, and he said, "a pleasure. I'm Prosper, and this is Bo."

"Felicita," Lissa replied, feeling welcomed. "Call me Lissa."

Mosca was the next to come up and introduce himself, "I'm Mosca, and I can fix anything."

"Sure," Hornet said, jabbing Mosca in the ribs, "given time." She dodged Mosca's playful punch. "I'm Catarina Grimani, but don't call me that. I'm known as Hornet around here."

Just then, Ida poked her head out of the kitchen, "I have hot drinks for anyone who wants some."

Prosper, Hornet, Scipio and Mosca immediately headed for the kitchen with Bo tugging Lissa along behind them. Ricco stood firmly rooted to the wooden floor.

Ida looked out again. "Ricco? German hot chocolate?""

She didn't have to ask twice.

-----

Scipio drained his second cup of tea and set it on the table. He turned to Ida, "I'd really love to stay, Ida, but it's approaching midnight, and I have to be at work tomorrow, you know."

Lighting streaked the sky outside, thunder roared in the heavens, and wind rattled the windowpanes.

Ida looked at Scipio.

"Scipio," she said, glancing meaningfully at the storm raging outside the window, "you know I've got enough room for you to stay here. Felicita can room with Hornet, at least for tonight. You can't go out in this!"

Scipio seemed uncertain, "I don't know, Ida. I might need something from my house."

"Well if you're that concerned about it, you might as well wake up before dawn and go to fetch it, because you're going to stay here for the night." Ida said firmly, refilling his teacup.

Scipio sat down with a grin. His eyes met Lissa's across the table, but she looked away before he could say anything.

Bo took another one of his kittens from the basket beside him, "this one's named Thief, for Scip." He pointed toward Scipio.

"Why for Scip?" She asked with a laugh, avoiding Scipio's eyes across the table.

"Scip used to be the Thief Lord. He got things to sell to a mean, old man named Barbarossa," Bo announced proudly. "He helped Prop and me when we were all by ourselves, and he got me these kittens."

"Scip did that?" Lissa's eyes smiled.

"Yes, and now he's done it for you, too," Bo replied matter-of-factly. "You are going to stay aren't you?"

"I think I might, Bo," she said, reaching out to touch his blonde curls. "I think I might."

-----

The ticking of the beautifully carved wooden clock on the wall kept Lissa's eyes wide open until the short hand and the long hand pointed firmly toward the 3. Hornet was sound asleep on the other side of the wide bed. The sheets had long since turned warm, so Lissa was not uncomfortable. Indeed, she was so comfortable that her comfort prevented her sleep. She slipped out of bed, reaching for her over sized coat and the clothes Hornet had given to her, dressed quickly, and headed for the door. The door creaked on it's hinges, and Lissa's eyes darted toward the bed, but Hornet did not awaken, or even stir. Lissa was out the door in an instant.

The wooden stairs were cold and unmerciful to Lissa's bare toes. The storm continued to rage outside the house, sending the puddles in the street running together in a swift torrent. The starless night sky offered no light to see by. Lissa strained to see in the dark shadows. She stepped off of the last step and onto a thick, furry rug. That and the glowing embers of the fire were her first signs that she was no longer stepping down stairs.

Lissa put her hands out in front of her, being careful not to knock anything over. Ida's house was full of beautiful trinkets that were of no use whatsoever. A flash of lightning revealed the room for a moment, and the figure standing in it.

Lissa clapped a hand over her lips to suppress the scream threatening to leap from her throat. A red flame set her neck and cheeks afire when she saw that it was only Scipio, crouching near the glowing coals in the fireplace. He stood up, brushing his dark hair away from his face. His mouth opened, then it closed and he smiled slightly. Lissa caught her breath, trying to calm the butterflies in her stomach. "I'm sorry, I didn't know anyone was down here." She turned quickly, wanting to disappear as fast as possible.

"No one should be," Scipio said quickly, stopping Lissa in her tracks. Her mother had taught her to always wait for a person to finish what they were saying before leaving. She turned around to face Scipio, biting her lips together. Scipio motioned for her to come closer. He crouched by the fireplace again, waiting. Lissa stepped closer hesitantly. Scipio kept his eyes on her until she sat down on one of the small ottomans, looking very miserably shy.

"How old are you?" Was Scipio's first question.

"Fifteen. Sixteen, come December," Lissa replied, pulling her dark red hair over her shoulder. "And you?"

Scipio just laughed at that one. "Old enough."

"You can't be younger than twenty," Lissa insisted. "After all, you hold a job, have your own house. You can support yourself."

"That's true," Scipio admitted, attempting to be more serious. "I work with a man named Victor. It's humble business, but it's enough. I just got out of my father's house, you see. He hasn't seen me in all of the five months I've worked with Victor. I never had a good relationship with him. See, he always viewed me as inferior and too childish to matter." Scipio broke off, suddenly realizing that he barely knew Lissa. His lips formed a tight smile. "What about you? Where are your parents?"

"Dead." Lissa's voice was so low that Scipio could barely hear her simple answer. She cleared her throat and lowered her eyes, "I never knew my father, and my mother never told me who he was. I only know that I have him to thank for this hair of mine," she laughed ruefully. "My mother hasn't been around for three years now. I stayed with friends at first, but they were poorer than I was, so I left them and came to Venice. I've been on my own for a year. Stealing, begging... and rummaging though waste." When Lissa looked up again, her eyes were hard, as if she expected to read pity in Scipio's eyes. "Doing whatever it takes to survive. Venice isn't a kind city, but then, neither was the town I lived in before."

"At least you've found a place where you can be safe and happy," Scipio said, staring at the coals.

"Scipio-"

"You may be one of the privileged few," Scipio looked up into her blue eyes, "to call me Scip." He couldn't tell her how beautiful he thought the nickname when she spoke it. After all, she thought he was at least five years older than her.

"Scip," Lissa paused. How could she tell the man who had taken her to a place where she should be perfectly happy to spend her days that she wanted to leave? How could she tell him "thanks but no thanks" after he had been so kind? "I wanted to thank you for bringing me here, but-"

"You can't stay," Scipio finished for her. "That's what they all say. You know, most of these kids didn't want to hang around me at first either."

"It's not that I don't like you," Lissa told him quickly. "I'm just not used to being dependent on anyone anymore. I'm the wandering type, y'know? Despite what I told Bo, I don't think I should stay. I learned how to survive on my own, and now I'm stuck on that."

Scipio didn't take his eyes off of hers. He reached silently for her hand, grasping it in his bigger one. "Just think about it," he whispered. Then he let go and headed for the stairs.

Lissa watched him go. When he disappeared, she sat still, staring at the place where she had last seen him for at least ten minutes. At last she sighed, stood up and headed back up the stairs. She slipped back into bed, and slept well for the first time in weeks.


	3. Chapter 3

Lissa woke to a little hand shaking her out of her sleep. She jerked and sat up quickly, looking around her. The room she was in was unfamiliar, and sunlight streamed in from the tall windows. The sun was nearly in the middle of the sky, indicating that it was nearly midday, and seemingly forgetting last night's storm. Lissa realized where she was and her eyes searched the room for the culprit who had awoken her in the middle of the best dream of her life. Her eyes rested on Bo's angel curls, which shone golden like a halo in the sunlight. Her heart melted and she reached out a hand to stoke his curls.

Bo's eyebrows were drawn sternly together. "You sleep late, even later than Prop. It's almost lunchtime!"

Lissa gazed pat him and out the window, "yes, I can see that, but I was tired." She glared at Bo teasingly.

"Ida's taking us out for a picnic, and a boat ride on the canal!" Bo exploded joyfully, ignoring Lissa's playful glower. "She wants you to come with us, so she told me to wake you up."

"Really?" Lissa tossed the covers aside and reached for her clothes. "When are we leaving?"

"As soon as Victor and Scipio get here," Bo informed her proudly. "They haven't gotten any work today, and they want to take a lunch break so they can go with us."

"Who's Victor?" Lissa asked.

"He's a big man who once was looking for Prop and me. Prop said he was a de-tect-ive," Bo struggled over the word. "My Aunt Esther sent him to look for me. She wanted me to live with her, but she's not nice at all, and she smells like hairspray."

"Hairspray!" Lissa screeched with laughter.

"It isn't funny!" Bo's eyebrows furrowed again.

Lissa stifled her laughter, "of course not, Bo. Give me a minute and I'll be right out."

------

The day was even more beautiful looking at it from outside Ida's house. The rain had brought a cold front, making the wind biting, and there were still puddles in the alleys, but the crisp winter sun smiled happily from a crystal venetian sky. Everything looked light and airy in it's angelic light, especially Bo's curls.

The dazzling sun and the cold winter air made all the children a little more lighthearted than last night. Even Ricco scampered back and forth, racing with Mosca and Bo. Hornet teased them, but even she had to join in after watching them. Prosper stayed behind, walking like the dignified older brother he should be, carrying a woolen blanket. Even though Ida was there to look after Bo, Prosper was still extremely protective of him.

Ida spotted Scipio and Victor heading their way, and she called all the children to her. Hornet and Riccio came running, and Mosca scooped up Bo and carried him in his arms. Bo squealed and wriggled to be let down as soon as he saw Scipio. Lissa noticed that he clung to Scipio like a magnet, and held on to his every word.

Victor carried a wide basket, covered with a cloth, that smelled of sausages and fresh bread. Riccio immediately began prowling around Victor, trying to get a peek inside the basket. Victor pulled it away from him. "Now stop that, you little rascal!" He grumbled, handing the basket to Hornet.

"Well, well, who's this?" Victor asked noticing Lissa for the first time.

"Her name is Lissa," Bo piped up, "Scipio found her in the storm last night. She's going to stay with us now, she told me so."

"Is she?" Victor smiled at Lissa. "Victor Getz. I'm a detective. Scipio here is my assistant."

"A pleasure," Lissa replied pleasantly.

"Same here," Victor said, patting her shoulder and heading on to see Ida.

Mosca, Hornet, Riccio and Bo scampered off to lay out the picnic, dragging Prosper along behind them. Lissa watched them go. She considered following them, but the glimmering water called her, and she couldn't help but go to the railing and watch it ripple.

"So you decided to stay," Scipio's low voice said from behind her.

Lissa nodded, not bothering to turn around. "It's been a long time since I had a real family. I think I need one more than I will admit."

"Everybody needs family," was Scipio's response.

"And you?" Lissa asked softly. She took Scipio's arm and led him to a bench. She perched herself on it like a little bird, ready to fly away at any sudden fright, and motioned for Scipio to do the same. He did so, but uneasily, looking about him like a frightened rabbit. Lissa put her hand on his shoulder. "What about your family? Haven't you got any?"

Scipio nodded, "a dad, and a mother, but I don't talk to them anymore. Ida, Victor, Hornet, Prosper, Mosca, Riccio, Bo, they're my family." Lissa noticed that he had left her out, and her heart churned, trying to decide whether or not it was a good thing. Then she decided that he could hardly count her as family since he had just met her yesterday.

Scipio shrugged his shoulders slightly, but Lissa did not take her hand away. It seemed that she was drawing comfort from the light contact. He decided to let it stay, even though he was feeling slightly uncomfortable. He studied Lissa out of the corner of his eye.

She was hardly like any of the high society girls he'd ever met, in all their rouge and mascara, perfect complexions and glossy braids. Lissa skin was pallid, not even a touch of red in her cheeks, and a few faded freckles lingered from her younger years. Her reddish hair was long and dark, but it had almost no shine to it, giving it the appearance of red straw. Her lips were pale, only slightly pinkish. Her hands were small, rough and short-fingered. But what the high society girls wouldn't have given for her figure, so slender that it looked like she would snap if pushed too hard, and her eyes, crystal blue like the clearest lake.

"Scip! Lissa!" Bo's clear voice rang clearly to them. "Ida's ready to eat!" He took one of Hornet's hands and dragged her along.

Scipio rose to his feet and offered Lissa his hand. Lissa timidly laid her hand atop his, but her touch was so light he hardly felt it. She jumped up and instantly let go, her eyes flitting to the others. Scipio understood her shyness and they walked slightly apart toward the others.

Prosper smiled slightly as they approached, just enough so that only he knew that he was smiling. He didn't want Scipio to catch him, but he couldn't help it. Lissa was pleasant enough, but since his ride on the merry-go-round, Scipio was at least five years her elder. There was no way there'd be anything between them, and Prosper could tell that Scipio's attention was starting to make Lissa a little nervous.

Hornet eagerly patted the spot beside her. She simply couldn't wait to start getting to know Lissa. And anyway, Lissa looked nervous, almost miserable standing next to Scipio. Hornet personally loved Scipio, but she knew how Scipio was. A little insistent at first. Lissa caught her eye and smiled back gratefully, plopping down beside Hornet. Scipio sat down between Bo and Mosca, folding his long legs comfortably.

Bo licked his lips as Victor brought out the fresh bread and sausages. He eagerly grabbed for his own pieces, spreading his bread thickly and messily with some of Ida's apple jelly. He looked up to find all the rest waiting impatiently for the apple jelly. Smiling angelically, he rolled the jelly across the picnic blanket to Lissa, bringing a smile to her face. _She'll stay, _Bo thought happily for the hundredth time that morning. _I'll make her so happy that she'll never leave me._

Mosca joyfully accepted the jelly from Lissa when she passed it on to him. He hadn't taken much notice of her, but he thought she was pleasant enough. She was certainly quiet. Why, it seemed no one other than Scipio and Bo could charm more than two words out of her. _But then, _Mosca thought, _it's better than her bossing everybody all the time. _Yes, he had to admit, Lissa was welcome in his book, and he was pleased that Hornet would have another girl around. He tossed the jelly on to Riccio.

Riccio caught the jelly expertly and set to work spreading. He watched Lissa giggling at one of Prosper's jokes through his reddish eyelashes. He didn't like her giggle very much, it was too soft and too merry for someone just off of the streets. He didn't trust it. What if Lissa wasn't just a street girl? What if she was something more? What if she had noble blood? What if-

Riccio stopped himself. It did no good to theorize if his reasoning made no sense at all. _For all I know,_ Riccio thought glumly, _she's just a beggar with a too-bright laugh. _Riccio did have to admit, he wanted to like Lissa. He was getting tired of his old habit of seeing something suspicious in every shadow, but he couldn't break it. It had saved his neck more than once.

Scipio watched the faces of his friends. He could read their mixed reactions to Lissa in their eyes whenever they looked at her. Prosper seemed amused, Hornet and Bo were happy, Mosca was Mosca, and Riccio didn't like her at all. The only reaction he could read was Lissa's, that is, until she looked up at him for a brief instant. The expression he read in her eyes was so...

Beautifully, wonderfully, sublimely, remarkably happy.

* * *

By the way, I adore freckles. I'm not redheaded like Lissa, but actually get some in the summer across my cheeks, and I always can't wait to go to the beach so I can see them again! 

_Note: In the beginning of this story, Scipio is around twenty, Prop is fourteen, Hornet is fourteen, Riccio is twelve, Mosca is fourteen, Bo is six, and Lissa is fifteen. Ages may change for certain characters._


	4. Chapter 4

This is really just a filler chapter because I didn't want to rush into the action. Next chapter will be much more exiting, that's when the real fun begins...

Oh, and by the way, if anybody who reads this knows the name of Ida's housekeeper, and that man who goes w/ her to the meeting with the Conte in the book, can you please tell me? I forget and I don't own the book or the movie, I'd have to go to the library.

-- Layana

* * *

Ida turned her boat slowly on the canal, gliding along gently. White splashes jumped up and dove down again, sometimes spraying the passengers with a fine mist. Bo yawned and snuggled deeper into Lissa's arms. He had easily convinced her to hold him, simply sliding into her lap and laying his head on her chest, no words necessary. Lissa stroked his fine blonde curls gently, humming a tune. She didn't really know where she'd gotten it, perhaps it was just the song of the wind. 

Mosca fingered his seahorse charm. Hornet had slipped it onto a piece of leather so that he could tie it around his neck. He glanced over at Riccio, who looked very tired, but was stubbornly refusing to sleep. Riccio had become increasingly harder to live with since last year. Two weeks ago, he had nearly been caught pickpocketing a rich tourist. Only his quick wit and rotten-toothed smile had saved his skinny self. The tourist had ended up getting so confused with Riccio's ramblings that he hurried away, leaving Riccio with enough money to buy a pastry. Mosca didn't like Riccio stealing things, know how deeply in trouble they would both be if he were caught, but he couldn't do anything about it. More than likely, Riccio would just ignore him. He could be a terrible headache at times.

Ida watched the children with a deep satisfaction. She had always simply adored children, and seeing these young ones so happy was her dream come true. She she made the boat curve gently on the canal, heading back toward the docks. The day was growing late, and Scipio and Victor had already spent way too much time out with the rest of them. They should get back to work as soon as possible, and Mosca and Riccio needed to return home.

The boat glided into it's proper place at the docks without trouble and six children (counting Scipio since none of them could quite bring themselves to count him as an adult yet) stumbled out, rubbing their eyes sleepily. Victor followed, stifling a yawn. Ida hopped out after them, scooping up a tripping Bo and laying him against her shoulder.

The parting went without words. Each group went their own way, with only a slight wave. They hardly ever said goodbye anymore, knowing that the next morning they were going to see each other again. The children spent every day together, wandering through Venice's streets, and at the end of the day everyone returned to Ida's house for dinner with Victor and Scipio.

The windows in Ida's house were all dark and the curtains drawn, indicating that her housekeeper had already left. Hornet fingered the keys, finding the house key and sliding it into the keyhole. A click indicated that the door was unlocked. Prosper pulled it open, holding it for the girls and Bo.

Ida flipped on the kitchen light, setting Bo on the floor. She ran her fingers through her bright yellow hair and gave to children a tired look that said, "it might be early, but off to bed with you."

Prosper obediently headed toward the stairs, Bo following after he had given Ida the customary good-night kiss on the cheek. Hornet and Lissa followed the boys up the stairs, turning left as the boys turned right and heading to their own bedroom. Tired though they were, they argued over the bathtub, giggled over their toothbrushes, and told each other stories while they brushed out their hair. Lissa couldn't believe how friendly Hornet was. Then Lissa jumped onto the bed, and slid right off onto the floor, hitting it with a hard bump! She wasn't hurt at all, however, and when Hornet had made sure of that, she wanted to try it. For an hour they slid off of the bed and jumped on it like six year olds, singing at the top of their lungs. All thoughts of consideration of the others in the house had disappeared.

"Girls," Ida's voice said sharply from the door, "_go to bed."_

Her only response was a burst of giggles.


	5. Chapter 5

The morning dawned gray and rainy, a dismal start for the new day. Riccio stood at the window, staring out into the dreary street. Hornet was curled up on the couch with a book. Mosca sat in front of the fire, rubbing his seahorse charm, and playing around with his pocket knife. Bo had insisted that Prosper help him do a puzzle, and so Proser was laying belly-down on the rug, helping Bo match colors and patterns.

Felicita didn't really know what to do. She didn't like reading very much, she had no pocketknife, she was not in the mood for puzzles and she had the feeling that Riccio would _not _want her to join him at the window. The boy kept casting vicious glances at her over his shoulder, and Felicita returned them with steely eyes. She flipped her long red braid and glanced at him disdainfully. He had no right or reason to be rude.

Felicita found herself wishing that Scipio were there. He had called Ida in the early morning to say that he could not be there for dinner that night. He was tracking down two suspicious characters who had reportedly stolen several valuable items from one of Venice's richest men, Alivise Bonmartio. Alvise was hideously angry, and demanded the services of Victor, but the older detective had been busy at the time, so he figured that his new assistant, none other than Scipio Massimo, could handle it. Well, needless to say, Alvise hadn't exactly been pleased to find out that an "amateur" detective would be handling the case, but he relented, seeing how he couldn't let the two men get away with stealing from him. Scipio was working hard on the case, which was his first real assignment, and he didn't want Alivise, or Victor to think that he was slacking off.

At last, the rain cleared, and after a delicious lasagna lunch, Bo peered out at the sunny sky through the clean window, and decided that it looked like a perfect day for the park.

"I want to go to the park," he announced as the the rest of the children sat around the table, chatting easily. "It's not raining anymore."

All the rest of the children looked at him. "But Bo," Hornet said gently. "Everything will be all wet. We were hoping to go to the docks instead."

"The docks are all wet," Bo said, crossing his arms. "And we haven't been to the park in a long, long time."

"Bo's right, Hornet," Prosper interceded for hi little brother. "And we just went to the docks yesterday."

"Maybe we can go buy pastries while you are at the park with Bo," Riccio said hopefully.

"Just make sure you _buy_ them," Mosca said under his breath. Riccio cast a dark glare at him, and opened his mouth to say something, but Hornet cut him off before a fight could begin.

"Good idea, Riccio!" She turned to Prosper, "I'll take Mosca and Riccio to the bakery to get a cake, while you take Bo to the park, Prop."

"Fine for me," Prosper replied. "But what's Felicita going to do?"

The children turned to look at her, but Bo was the first to speak.

"Come with us to the park, Felicita! Pleeeease?" Bo tugged at her arm.

Felicita glanced at Riccio, whose face was darker than the midnight sky. She decided that what Bo suggested would _probably _be a good idea.

"Sure Bo," she said, twirling one of his curls. "It'll be fun."

--

"Okay, we'll meet you back here once we get some things," Hornet said to Prosper, Bo and Felicita. She bent down to where she was eye to eye with Bo. "Anything special you want, Bo?"

Bo thought for a moment, then his eyes brightened. "Brownies," he said emphatically. "I want brownies with frosting on them."

Hornet cocked her head. "With... frosting?" She gulped, knowing how rich that sounded. She inclined her head up toward Prosper. "What do you think, Prop?"

"I think that's a little much, Bo," Prosper said gently. Bo's blue eyes looked disappointed.

"Strawberry cakes, then," he said with a little nod. "I want strawberry cakes."

"Okay, Bo," Hornet sounded relieved that he hadn't insisted. "I think that's a better idea."

"Let's go now," Riccio urged, glancing in the direction of the bakery.

"Hush, Riccio," Mosca scolded. "You're no fun."

Riccio mumbled something under his breath, but he did not lash back with a snide comment, which was very unusual for him. He turned away, eying some rich and not-so-smart looking tourists. "I bet it wouldn't be that hard to make off with her purse..." He mused under his breath. Unfortunately- or rather, fortunately- Mosca heard him, and his hand shot out to grab Riccio's collar.

"Don't even think about it," he hissed in the younger boy's ear.

"You can't make me do anything," Riccio said, a pout appearing on his face.

"Come on, boys," Hornet motioned to Mosca and Riccio, leading the way to the bakery. Mosca released Riccio, but he kept a close eye on him as they walked through the streets of Venice.

"Let's go to the swings, Prop," Bo said, tugging on his older brother's sleeve.

"Prop?" Felicita just had to ask about Prosper's unusual nickname.

"Yeah, well, when you have a weird name, you get a weird nickname," Prosper said, shaking his head ruefully. He lifted Bo up onto one of the swings and gave him a push. "My Mom, she had a preference for 'different' names. Bo's real name is Boniface. He'd rather be called Bo, though."

"And you?" Felicita inquired. "Do you prefer Prosper or Prop?"

"Either is fine," Prosper said. "But 'most all of my friends call me Prop," he added thoughtfully. "So you can, too. If you want to, that is."

"Sure, Prop," Felicita said with a grin. "And Lissa is good for me."

"It's a heap of a lot shorter than Fel-i-cit-a," Prosper said, drawing the name out. He glanced at Felicita quickly and changed the subject. "If you don't mind me asking, where do you come from?"

"Oh, I've been dragged all over southern Italy all my life," Felicita said, her brow furrowing in thought. "I don't think I ever lived in one place long enough to call it home. See, my Dad died early on, and my Mom really couldn't support herself in one place for very long. We were constantly moving around on the promise of a better job. It was crazy, and I didn't make a lot of friends, but I was always ready to move on. The traveling was better than the settling, partially because our houses were never very fine anyway, and partially because I loved moving to new places. It's exciting!" Felicita's deep blue eyes shone happily.

Prosper shrugged. "I don't know about that. I guess traveling is okay, if you're doing it legally. When Bo and I came here, we kind of"- his eyes darted quickly to Felicita- "smuggled ourselves in." Felicita was smiling again, but she said nothing. "I wanted to come here, because this is the city that Mom loved. I didn't know how in the world I was going to take care of BO once I got here, but we came anyway. We were lucky that Scipio found us."

Felicita nodded, her face serious once again. "Bo's too young to be wandering the streets."

"Yeah," Prosper said, his eyes downcast. "Ida's done wonders with him."

The two were silent for a moment, both of them perhaps wondering what to say, but Bo broke the silence for them. "Push me, Prop!" He said, swinging his legs and craning his neck back to look at his older brother. "You're not pushing." While talking to Felicita, Prosper had forgotten to push Bo on the swing, and the little blonde boy was now growing impatient. Prosper pulled him back, and then ran forward, lifting Bo above his head and going underneath him. Bo clung tight to the swing's chains, but he was giggling uncontrollably through it all.

Felicita spied a water fountain on the other side of the park. "Prop," she said, "I'm going to go get a drink. I'll be right back."

"Sure, Lissa," Prosper said easily, giving his brother another push.

Felicita trotted lightly over the gravel toward the water fountain. She stopped in front of the little structure, pressing the button and leaning over to sip the clean, clear water. She felt a touch on her shoulder as she straightened up. "Yes, Bo?" She said, turning to face the little boy with a smile. But suddenly, her expression changed and she gasped for air.

In front of her stood two men, one with stubbly cheeks, and the other with a full beard. The first man wore a red checkered jacket and he smelled of cheap cigars. The second man was wearing a green baseball cap, and his eyes gleamed evilly underneath.

"Jackal," Felicita murmured. "And Purk. You _would _follow me here," she hissed. "Why can't you leave me alone? I'm not going with you and that's final."

"Please," the first man, the one named Jackal, spat. "We'll never give up on you, Lissa. You can't escape from us. Not even in Venice."

"Especially since we're bein' paid to hunt you down now," The second man-Purk-said.

"Paid?" Felicita's eyes flamed. "You're getting _paid _to stalk me now?"

"Yeah," Purk said, holding up an expensive looking camera. "By Venice's tourists."

"Hush up, Purk," Jackal shoved his companion. He turned back to Felicita. "Lissa, we're givin' you another chance. You come with us, or we take you with us."

"Why do you want me so bad, anyway?" Felicita demanded. "I'm nothing special."

"Oh pleeease," Jackal rolled his eyes. "_We _don't want a sniveling brat. Purk was right, there is someone payin' us to hunt you down, now."

"Now?"

"Just last night some man called us and told us to get you for him," Purk explained. "He wants us to meet him in Barbarossa's old place. That's actually where we used to go and sell all of our 'acquired' items."

"So why were you stalking me before?" Felicita asked, her eyes boring into Jackal's.

Jackal shrugged. "Your Mom _owed _us," he spat out. "Now _you _owe us. But if we get you to this guy, none of that'll matter."

"Why do I matter to him?" Felicita asked.

"Oh, I don't know really," Jackal said, his yellow teeth showing as his lips pulled back in a hideous grin. "But he said something about... Who was it, Purk?"

"Some man named Scipio Massimo," Purk shrugged.

"Scip-?" Felicita looked surpised, but she did not have a chance to question them further, for Prosper and Bo were running toward her.

"Hey, Felicita!" Prosper slid to a stop beside her, holding tight to Bo's hand. He looked at Jackal and Purk. "What are you talking to them for?"

"No reason, they just..." Felicita trailed off. What answer could she give Prosper? He had obviously watched them conversing, and maybe even heard a few of their words. She shrugged and glared at the two men. "I'm not sure actually. Get lost, you two!" She shouldered past them, taking Bo by the hand and trying to shield him from them.

Jackal tapped her on the shoulder. "We won't git you this time, not in front of the little boy," he hissed. "But you just better watch it, 'cause next chance we git, we're comin' after you." He motioned to Purk and the other man followed him to the other side of the park, where they were swallowed up by the trees.

Felicita breathd a sigh of relief and sank down on the playground. Bo squirmed and freed himself from her grip, heading for the slide. Prosper, on the other hand, knelt down on the gravel and looked up at Felicita.

"What," he said very seriously, "was that all about?"


End file.
